Midnight Longing
by Lost in Day Dreams
Summary: In the middle of the night, Brock yearns for the life he left behind. Read inside for more details. Oneshot!


Hello again! This little oneshot just popped into my head when I saw the episode, "Couple's Therapy" again. I know, I know, I've already written a story set to this episode, but this time, there's a twist! This one is set the night _before_ the episode! Ha! I win! Hee hee! Anywho, here we go!

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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"Good night, buddy," Brock whispered softly into a sleeping Jake's ear as he finished tucking him safely into his bed. When he got an inaudible mumble in response, Brock smiled warmly at his boy and kissed him softly on his cheek. He then tiptoed out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him. _Poor little guy_, he thought. He was going to have a hard time waking up in the morning.

Brock sighed in frustration as he took a gander over at the grandfather clock at the end of the hall. Three o'clock in the morning. They had stayed up until _three in the morning_ watching videos together. How could he let that much time slip by? Granted, an hour of that time was spent dozing off on the couch, but still! He should have known better than to allow that to happen. Reba was going to be furious when she found out how long he let her son stay up.

_Unless she never _does_ find out, _he thought suspiciously. What was the point of her knowing anyway? Jake was in bed now and all was well; no use in getting her upset with the truth. He just had to catch Jake before he let the truth slip out at breakfast later. Brock made a resolution to wake up extra early to make sure he did.

As he began to pad down the hallway, a great yawn escaped his lips and he had to rub his eyes to keep them from shutting right there. At that moment, he knew there was no way he would be able to make it all the way home without stopping for a rest and ending up falling asleep in the bushes somewhere.

_Reba won't mind if I crashed on her couch just for the night,_ he thought as he continued to slowly trudge down the hallway. A mental image of Reba finding him on the couch the next morning popped into his head. _Wait, yes she would, and pain would surely follow._ Brock sighed. He had already kept their son up until the wee hours of the morning, it would be best not to rock the boat any further. But as another big yawn escaped him, he knew he had no other choice. Him staying overnight at her house would just have to be another thing she never found out about.

Brock had just about made it to the stairs when another bout of yawns attacked him. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against a door frame and rested a bit. After a moment or two, he began to rub his eyes vigorously to open them up again so he could make it the remainder of the way to the couch. But as he finally got them to pop open, he realized he had unconsciously leaned his head against Reba's doorframe, and now he was more inside of her room than out in the hallway.

His first reaction was to jump back and step out into the hallway where he belonged, but there was another reaction, a stronger one; something within him that kept him inside of her room and even gave him the boldness to take a few more steps forward until he was about a three feet away from the foot of her bed. He stayed perfectly still for a few seconds to make sure he hadn't disturbed her and when he didn't, he allowed himself to relax a little.

It was the first time he had been back in their old room since the separation. He found it comforting that it hadn't changed much. The room still smelled of Reba's usual perfume and the same pictures of their family still adorned its every corner. Brock hated to admit it, but he really missed that place, sometimes so much that his heart would ache. There were so many good memories attached to that house, especially to the bedroom he was standing in, that it made him yearn to go back every single day of his life.

As he continued to scan the room, he caught sight of a dent in the wall just visible behind the headboard of Reba's bed and had to cover his mouth to keep from bursting out with laughter. He remembered the day that dent got there; it had been the first day they had moved into the house. He had been bringing in the shower rack when he clumsily tripped over his own two feet. He recalled how it all seemed to happen in slow motion as he stumbled forward and rammed the shower rack right into the wall in a very comical fashion. Thankfully the damage was minimal, but for days Reba would not let him forget the incident and would burst into fits of giggles every time she saw the dent. Brock had pretended to be angry every time she did, but it would never last long and he would eventually join in with her delightfully contagious laughter. Oh, how Brock missed being around for those silly little moments.

Eventually, Brock's eyes drifted from the dent in the wall to where Reba lay. When they were married, one of his favorite times of the day had been when he and Reba would lie in that very bed, just talking and laughing. It had been the only time of the day where they could truly be alone together and share their every thought. It had been like they were dating all over again every night, the way they would talk, and it had given Brock a warm fuzzy feeling inside, a feeling that he still got sometimes even to this day when he talked to her. He just couldn't explain it. If he had to though, he would guess he would say it felt like…well…home.

But there had also been plenty of times where they wouldn't talk at all and instead he would just hold her and let the warmth of her body melt into his. And when she would eventually fall asleep in his arms, he would lie there and marvel at how beautiful she was; how even after so many years of marriage and three children, she had managed to stay just as beautiful as she was the day they had met. Even now, he had to admit, she still looked lovely, lying there in the pale moonlight. It made him want to just lie down by her side and….

Suddenly, alarm bells began to sound loudly in his head. What on earth was he doing?! He was standing in his ex-wife's bedroom without her permission and watching her sleep like some sort of lunatic. It was beyond disturbing. He had no right to be in Reba's _house_ that late at night, much less her bedroom, especially when forbidden thoughts were beginning to creep into his head. He had to get out of there and fast.

So slowly and quietly, Brock tiptoed out of Reba's room and bolted the rest of the way down the stairs. Then tiredly, he flopped down on the couch and sighed, slapping himself a couple of times in the head in the process. He had to let all of that go! He had made his choice to end his perfectly good life with Reba when he began his affair with Barbara Jean; he had no right to want it back as much as he did. He just had to let it go.

But how could he? He still loved Reba just as much as he did the day they met, perhaps even more. How could you just stop loving someone after you truly fell in love with them in the first place? Was it even possible? He couldn't for the life of him understand how he was supposed to do so.

Brock sighed loudly once more and flopped over onto his side. He set the alarm on his watch before shutting his eyes and attempting to get at least a couple of hours of sleep. But as images of Reba lying in her bed floated before his eyes, along with dozens of memories of the past, he knew getting to sleep was going to prove easier said than done. As he eventually felt sleep begin to overcome him, he knew for sure a certain red-haired beauty would haunt his dreams that night.

THE END

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Well, you like? Yes, no, maybe so? Let me know in your reviews so I can know what I need to work on before I start a full length story! Until then! 


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